Cruise to Lose
by Prince Lutin
Summary: Guzma and Lusamine go on a fancy cruise ship, where they harass rich snobby British aristocrats and make their lives a living hell.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ _I do not own Pokemon, Guzma, or Lusamine. They are property of Nintendo. I do, however, own some of the characters._

 _This fanfic is rated T for profanity and mild suggestive themes. Not suitable for those under 13._

 _This fanfic takes place sometime before the games Pokemon Sun and Moon. It features Lusamine and Guzma in a nice, intimate moment on a cruise._

* * *

 **THE ESTATE OF NIBIRU-MUL PRESENTS**

 **CRUISE TO LOSE**

 **CHAPTER 1: WELCOME ABOARD**

Some enchanted evening in bloody old Southampton, Guzma and Lusamine were on vacation. Lusamine had ordered two first-class tickets on the _Empress of the Seven Seas_ , a luxury cruise liner that traveled the seven seas. Lusamine was happy to get away from the for ten days. She was glad to invite Guzma, the boss of Team Skull, and to not invite her children Gladion and Lillie.

Guzma and Lusamine boarded the ship. Lusamine was dressed in her exquisite _bon chic_ Beartic fur coat, which kept her warm from the cold. Guzma wore his regular outfit, complete with bling bling. He looked goofy as he accompanied his mistress. The ship was full of pretentious British aristocrats with ridiculous posh first names and hyphenated surnames.

Guzma burped loudly.

"Blimey!" said one of the passengers.

"What a rude, impertinent lout," said another passenger.

"Don't worry about a thing," giggled Lusamine. "He's just having lots of fun."

Guzma and Lusamine got settled in their suite - a luxurious first-class suite with king-size beds with lavender sheets and pillows. The walls were red velveteen, and the furniture was brown oak. Guzma plopped himself on the bed, looking evilly. He knew he wanted to cause lots of trouble.

Lusamine looked at the brochure.

"So, doll," she said, "there will be lots of things to do on this shindig. We'll have fine dining and breathing, elegant ballroom dancing, and tea with crumpets. Doesn't that sound most splendid, Guzma?"

"Yeah, baby!" said Guzma.

Lusamine patted Guzma on the head and stroked his white hair.

"My Guzzy-Wuzzy will only get the best," said Lusamine. "It's because he is a special young man."

Guzma purred as Lusamine stroked his hair.

"So, ma'am," said Guzma, "what's on the agenda for tonight?"

"Well..." said Lusamine, "first we are going to go to the theater, where they will be showing one of those pretentious French films that only exist to win Oscars."

"Is it about the Holocaust?" asked Guzma. "Holocaust movies always win Oscars. Everybody knows that."

"No...not tonight," said Lusamine. "We're going to be leaving in about an hour."

"I say we crank dat, bitch!" said Guzma.

Guzma and Lusamine went to the ship's theater to see the movie - a fancy-shmancy French film full of nothing but pretension and drama. Guzma was getting bored sitting through it, so he decided to get some popcorn. He chewed loudly (and with his mouth open) while looking up at the screen. He then put his feet up against the seat.

A posh-looking elderly British woman turned around and looked at the huge feet behind her.

"Excuse me, you prole!" she said. "Move your disgusting feet out of my face!"

"Nope," said Guzma.

"It's a free country," said Lusamine. "Guzma can put his feet where he wants."

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" said the old British woman.

Guzma drank from his big ol' cup of Coca-Cola and burped in the old British woman's face.

"YOU DISGUSTING, INSIGNIFICANT PROLE!" she yelled.

Guzma lifted his middle finger at the woman. Lusamine followed suit.

"Yo, this bitch is wack," said Guzma.

"She does not understand sophisticated people like ourselves," said Lusamine.

"Sophisticated?" said the old British woman. "I"LL SHOW YOU SOPHISTICATED!"

The woman raised her walking-stick and started to beat Guzma and Lusamine.

Guzma and Lusamine left the theater.

"Don't worry, Guzma," said Lusamine. "There will be plenty of other stuff to do."

"And plenty of other people to make miserable?" asked Guzma.

"Of course, Guzzy," said Lusamine.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2: CANARD A L'ORANGE**

The next evening, Lusamine and Guzma decided to go to dinner. Lusamine wore her Aether Foundation evening gown (which was long and form-fitting with no sleeves and an open back) and long snobby opera gloves. Guzma dressed in the Aether Foundation outfit that Lusamine bought for him. It consisted of a nice shirt, frock coat, and gloves, plus tight pants resembling Lusamine's tights. Lusamine also gave Guzma dress glasses to wear on his head.

"Alright!" said Guzma. "We're going to eat dinner with some rich bitches!"

Lusamine walked in pompously with Guzma in tow.

"Greetings," said Lusamine, "I am Samantha Lucretia Elsa-Mina Gladiola Perlmutter, better known as Lusamine. I am here on this bonne exquisite cruise with my beloved friend, Juan Antonio Guzman."

"Call me Guzma, yo," said Guzma. Guzma gave everyone the finger.

Lusamine laughed as the nobles cringed.

"Who are you?" asked Guzma, approaching one of the guests, an old man dressed in posh clothing.

"I am Sacheverell Egbert Theodoric Walpole-Montagu, 11th Marquess of St. Quenburga," said the man.

"I'm Guzma," said Guzma. "Do you think they have any meatball subs?"

"What is this 'meatball subs' you speak of?" said the marquess.

"It must be prole linguistics," said the marquess' wife.

"Indeed, lovey," said the marquess.

Guzma sat down next to Lusamine.

"The entire menu's in British English," said Guzma.

"It's full of fancy foods that you're not used to," said Lusamine. "There's all sorts of pretentious French cooking. There's also beef wellington, one of the most tres chic dishes in all of bloody England."

"Do you think they have ketchup?" asked Guzma.

Lusamine giggled coquettishly.

"They don't have that there, dearest," she said. "But they do have lots of other sauces, like Sauce Robert, Sauce Africaine, Hollandaise, Chasseur, Lyonnaise, Poivrade, and Espagnole."

Guzma's mouth watered in delight.

"I'm going to order them all!" he said.

Lusamine and Guzma were served the first course of their meal - a bouillabaisse stew. Guzma took a piece of bread, dipped it in the stew, and started to gobble it up with his mouth open.

"Oh, my!" said a woman sitting at the next table. "New money not knowing how to eat properly!"

"Who are you to tell Guzma what to eat?" asked Lusamine.

"I am Lady Phyllida Cornwallis-Peel, 17th Countess of Glastonburgh," said the woman. "And I should know, because I am the author of several books on etiquette!"

"I've heard of you," said Lusamine.

"Your books are boring," said Guzma. "I eat however the fuck I want." He burped loudly.

"You sickening, disgusting pig!" said the countess. "Commoners like him should not have the right to eat on equal footing with aristocrats."

Lusamine and Guzma were later served salad. The aristocrats watched in horror as Guzma used his dinner fork to eat the salad. They were even more horrified when Guzma used all the sauces for his salad.

Eventually, the main course came. Guzma ordered canard a l'orange and Lusamine ordered coq au vin. Both of them were served chardonnay to drink.

"Slap a bib on me and stand back!" said Guzma. "This is the perfect dish for your boy Guzma!"

Guzma used his butter knife to cut up the duck and started to guzzle down his meal.

"Filthy Americans," said a young woman sitting near them. This young woman was Lady Theodora Montagu-Fiennes, a young, conservative debutante.

"Guzma can do as he likes," said Lusamine.

"You're just being racist," said Guzma.

"Racist?" said Theodora. "I'm not racist. All my servants are black."

Guzma stared at Theodora.

"Uh...that is racist, yo," said Guzma.

"You are so tiresome," said Theodora. "You're boring me."

"I think you are the tiresome one," said Lusamine. "You are too snobby for your own good."

Theodora growled.

"Wait until my father hears about this!" she said.

"I hate you," said Lusamine. "Don't worry about a thing, my precious Guzzy-Wuzzy. Those aristocrats have such poor taste."

"I'm not worried, yo," said Guzma. He burped loudly.

After Lusamine and Guzma finished dinner and drunk all their chardonnay, they had a dessert of peach Melba. Once desert was done, the two of them decided to call it a night and go back to their room.

"So long, suckers!" said Guzma, giving two middle fingers to all the aristocrats. He burped loudly and then stomped off. Lusamine giggled as she walked away.

"Those disgusting proles ought to be banned from here," said Theodora. "Filthy lower-class animals."

Guzma and Lusamine went back to their room. Guzma plopped himself on the bed and smiled.

"This cruise is the most bitchin', yo!" said Guzma.

"Although some people need to appreciate fine dining," said Lusamine, "like those stupid snobbish aristocrats."

"It's a free country," said Guzma. "People need to learn respect."

Guzma and Lusamine laughed. Then they groaned as they had so much to eat.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: POSH CAVIAR**

The next day, Guzma and Lusamine woke up to a cloudy day. Guzma always said that grey skies were a good thing.

Guzma read a pamphlet.

"This sounds fun, bitch," said Guzma. "I was thinking about going to that caviar-tasting event."

"Indeed," said Lusamine. "We're going. It will be where we get to meet more exquisite people."

"Caviar is basically fish shit," said Guzma, "and for some odd reason, rich people love to eat it. I don't understand why, since fish feces is not exactly on the appetizing side. I'm going to excite the whole shindig by playing my latest rap album!"

"I think that would lighten up the guests," said Lusamine. "I hate those stupid aristocrats."

"I do too," said Guzma. "These aristocrats are a drag, man. I hope they appreciate the greatness that is rap music."

Lusamine giggled.

"You're so droll, Guzma," said Lusamine. "You're ever so droll."

Later that day, Guzma and Lusamine went to the caviar-tasting event. The two of them were dressed in the same outfits that they wore at the restaurant. There was caviar farmed from all over the world - roe from poor, innocent sturgeons that were being hunted to extinction just so rich snobs could have their eggs on the menu at some fancy-schmancy event.

Guzma and Lusamine walked into the hall. The two of them looked around. The snobby aristocrats there were mostly the same snobs they had seen the previous day.

"Sounds fun," Guzma laughed cruelly.

"Let's taste some caviar," said Lusamine.

Guzma went to one of the tables, where there was fresh, juicy caviar for tasting. Guzma grabbed a spoonful and bit into it, slurping all the disgusting juices that came out of it. Guzma thought it was gross, but he just wanted to annoy the aristocrats.

Two of the aristocrats heard Guzma munching away on caviar.

"My word," said one of the aristocrats, "that young man sure loves to breach etiquette."

"He is such a prole," said the other aristocrat. "No respect for manners."

"Typical commoner," said the first aristocrat. "He thinks he's so important."

Guzma then grabbed a handful of caviar from another dish and started to eat it.

"He's eating caviar without taking off his gloves," said the first aristocrat.

"Disgusting," said the second aristocrat.

"Someone ought to teach him proper etiquette," said the first aristocrats.

Guzma burped.

"I think he's hopeless," said the second aristocrat.

"Guzma can do as he likes," said Lusamine. "He knows something about sophistication."

The two aristocrats cringed.

Guzma went over to another bowl of caviar and started to eat it.

"Mmm..." said Guzma. "I love the fresh smell of caviar in the morning."

Lusamine giggled coquettishly.

"Caviar is getting boring," said Guzma. "There must be something else to do."

Guzma crept over to the radio, which was playing fancy rich people music - the kind that they dance to in ballrooms. Guzma removed the CD from the radio and replaced it with a CD that contained his latest rap music. Guzma then cranked up the volume and started to play the CD.

 _Yo yo yo!_

 _This is your boy Guzma_

 _In the house, yo!_

Loud rap music was blasting on the radio. It shocked all of the aristocrats.

"Ha!" said Guzma. "Now that's more like it!"

"Who's responsible for this?" said one of the aristocrats.

"This music is repulsive!" said another aristocrat.

"I know who it is!" said a third aristocrat. "It was that man over there! The one who's been eating caviar like a pig."

"What a disgusting display of low-class behavior," said the first aristocrat.

Guzma was rapping to the music.

"Yo, what up, homies?" said Guzma. "This is your boy Guzma!" Guzma burped loudly.

The aristocrats' faces turned red with anger.

Soon, Guzma's CD was removed from the radio and the proper CD was put back in place.

A valet approached Lusamine, who was tasting caviar.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said to her, "but are you in charge of that young man?"

"Yes," said Lusamine.

"I have a favor to ask of you," said the valet. "Please take that young man, or 'Guzma' as you call him, and remove him from the premises."

Guzma was guzzling down caviar when a big, angry guard approached him and started to drag him out of the hall.

"Stop it, you dick!" said Guzma. "I'll have my lawyer sue yo' ass! Please let me go!"

The guard threw Guzma out of the hall.

Lusamine walked out of the hall and looked at Guzma.

"I'm never having caviar again," said Guzma. "The shit wasn't even that good. I don't understand how rich people eat that shit."

"Don't you worry, Guzzy-Wuzzy," said Lusamine. "There's always dinner to look forward to."

Guzma sighed.

"You're right," said Guzma. "And dinner is one of the most fun things to do here!"

Later that day, Guzma and Lusamine went to dinner, where they ate and irritated the aristocrats. After dinner, they went back to their suite.

That night, Guzma and Lusamine were in their suite. Guzma was looking out the window.

"Rich people are such assholes," said Guzma. "Except for you, Lusamine."

Lusamine giggled coquettishly.

"I'm having the time of my life on this cruise!" said Guzma. "Nothing can go wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** This is going to be the penultimate chapter of the fanfic. I only intended it to be a five-shot. (I don't even know if that's a real term. I don't think so.) I'm going to try to finish it up today so I can work on other fics. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying my fanfic!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4: BALLROOM DANCING**

The next day, Guzma and Lusamine heard that there was going to be a ball. The ball was going to be held that night.

"I am so looking forward to this ball!" said Guzma. "All of those rich snobs are going to be admiring my swag! It's gonna be bitchin, yo!"

"Of course it will, Guzzy-Wuzzy," said Lusamine. "It will be the most elegant night on the ball!"

That evening, Guzma and Lusamine got ready for the ball. Lusamine brought out her most elegant ballgown - a lace-trimmed monstrosity made out of red velvet and ribbons. She also wore one of those fake turban-twists that the rich opera singers wore (kind of like Nana Noodleman in the movie _Sing_ ). Guzma wore a strapping black tuxedo with a white corsage. He also drank lots of wine to make sure he was prepared. Lusamine drowned herself in perfume to ensure she was well-scented for the ball, while Guzma put on some manly cologne.

Guzma and Lusamine entered the ballroom hand in hand.

"Looks good to me," said Lusamine.

"Let's get this party started!" yelled Guzma.

Guzma and Lusamine walked into the ballroom and started to dance. A sophisticated Viennese waltz started to play. Guzma and Lusamine danced together and lovingly gazed into each other's eyes. The other guests could smell Lusamine's eau de toilette.

While Guzma and Lusamine were waltzing, Guzma bumped into an aristocrat.

"My word!" said the aristocrat. "Watch where you waltz!"

Guzma and Lusamine continued to dance. Guzma may have been a good breakdancer, but he had two left feet when it came to ballroom dancing. Surprisingly, he never stepped on Lusamine's feet, but he sure liked bumping into other people.

"Hey, my sexy bitch," Guzma told Lusamine. "You're the belle of the ball, and I'm the king, yo."

"Why thank you," giggled Lusamine.

"My word!" said a baron to his wife. "That young man does not even know the first thing about ballroom etiquette."

"That disgusting lout," said the baroness. "Why is he even on this ship? He should be given the boot."

"Both him _and_ that ugly hag who's been enabling him should be kicked off," said the baron.

The first waltz stopped playing. The next song was one of Lusamine's favorites, the Waltz of the Flowers. Guzma and Lusamine started to dance along with the music. Guzma twirled Lusamine around, making her bump into various rich snobs.

"That man has two left feet," said one of the aristocrats.

"He thinks he's king of the whole bloody dance world," said another aristocrat, "but in fact, he's no better than any commoner."

While the two of them were dancing, Guzma kissed Lusamine on the lips. Guzma was feeling madly in love while he danced, and he didn't care that he had too much to drink. He decided to drink more wine to lift up his spirits. The drunken Guzma started to feel ecstatic as he bumped into more people.

After the Waltz of the Flowers was over, a minuet started to play. Guzma and Lusamine were dancing further apart, but still joined by their hands. Guzma continued to bump into people. It got even worse when Guzma landed on one old guy and farted.

"WHAT THE...?" said the guy Guzma "That is one of the most DISGUSTING things I've ever seen in my life! What the fuck has this guy been eating?"

"Pate de foie gras," said Guzma, "and bean soup."

"I can tell, you dolt," said the old guy.

"Sorry," said Guzma.

"I don't think one little 'sorry' can cut it," said the old guy. "You are disgusting. I'm going to have a word with the captain about your 'placing'. We're going to be stopping in Lisbon tomorrow, and we are thinking of dropping you off there and leaving you behind, so ha!"

"I think you're just kidding, yo," said Guzma. "I gotta crank dat jam, yo!"

Guzma shrugged it off and continued dancing. Guzma and Lusamine were deliberately ignorant of the rich, snobby aristocrats who were watching them in horror.

"Oh, God," Guzma said to Lusamine. "What do these stupid aristocrats think is wrong with us? I don't know why we are even here. Let's just try to ruin it for everyone by bumping into as many people as possible!"

Guzma and Lusamine started to dance out of control and bumped into so many people, they nearly incited a riot. Guzma then took center stage and started to drunkenly rap. He then put a copy of his rap CD in the radio and started to blast it at top volume and sang along with it.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP FOR YO' BOY GUZMA!" yelled Guzma.

By then, the aristocrats had had more than enough.

"THAT'S IT!" they yelled. "YOU'RE OUT!"

The aristocrats chased Guzma and Lusamine out of the ballroom. The old guy whom Guzma had farted at was at front.

"What is it, guys?" asked Guzma.

"What do you want to speak to us about?" asked Lusamine. "Is it something good?"

"No, it's not!" said the old guy.

"Huh?" asked Guzma.

"These past few days have been terrible!" said the old guy. "Terrible, horrible, awful, you get the picture! It's your bloody fault that we can't enjoy this bloody cruise! Tomorrow, we are going to talk to the captain and have you booted off the ship!"

"Where will we go?" Lusamine asked the old guy.

"We will leave you in Lisbon," said the old man, "where you will enjoy life in the streets! Hope you like it, for you will never be allowed on the Empress of the Seven Seas again!"

"We don't need your stupid ship," said Lusamine.

That night, Lusamine and Guzma packed up all their belongings to make sure that nothing was left behind, since the two of them had gotten an ultimatum that they had to leave the ship within 24 hours or else.

"That's okay," said Lusamine. "I don't want to be a part of this stupid cruise anyway."

"We'll have a much better time in Lisbon," said Guzma.

Guzma and Lusamine looked outside the window and frowned. Their cruise-going days were about to be over.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**_ _Here is the end of the fanfic, which consists of the epilogue. Don't worry: Guzma and Lusamine will still be able to have fun._

 _I hope you liked my fanfic!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5: EPILOGUE**

The next morning, Guzma and Lusamine woke up to a sunny day. They got dressed into their usual outfits. Afterwards, the two of them heard a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," said Lusamine.

Lusamine opened the door. It was the captain.

"It's me, the captain," said Lusamine.

"Hello, caps," said Guzma.

"We have made land in Lisbon," said the captain. "We're going to be leaving you there."

"Huh?" said Guzma and Lusamine.

"We're going to be leaving you in Lisbon," said the captain. "You two have been banned from the Empress of the Seven Seas for life."

"Pfft, I don't care," said Guzma. "I'm through with cruises."

"I'm through with cruises as well," said Lusamine. "We don't need to be here."

The captain led Guzma and Lusamine off the ship. Guzma and Lusamine looked at the ship as it sailed away.

"We're going to enjoy Lisbon," said Lusamine. "We don't need that silly ship."

"Darn!" said Guzma. "I left my rap CD on the ship."

"No need to worry, Guzma," said Lusamine. "I brought extras with me."

Guzma and Lusamine kissed.

The two of them decided to enjoy their time in Lisbon, where they spent the rest of their vacation. Lusamine had booked a hotel - a relatively cheap one so she and Guzma wouldn't be scrutinized. When their trip was over, they took Lusamine's private jet back to Alola.

 **THE END**


End file.
